Waltz

Interview by Tatev Avetisyan

Embarking on the journey of a year-long nurtured music video for Mgzavrebi’s Waltz, Lado Kvataniya - a Russian director of Ukrainian-Georgian origins - tributes the past while also contemplating the enduring power of healing through art. The short film masterfully explores the themes of nostalgia, love, and loss by interweaving frames of a young couple's relationship as they build a new family with poignant flashbacks. Through this juxtaposition, viewers observe an emotional journey that touches on memories of the deceased loved ones and the couple's future prospects. With Kvataniya's powerful storytelling and evocative imagery filled with Georgian cultural settings, the video leaves an enduring impression.

In conversation with Curation Hour, Lado Kvataniya frankly speaks of his past, present and future: starting from when he entered filmmaking to the production process behind Waltz to his inner reflections on the current scene.

How did you get involved in filmmaking? And where does the interest in creating music videos come from?

I didn't plan to be a film director, but after graduating from the theatre institute with a degree in acting and directing, I realised that I wanted to change something in my life, to try something new. From my youth, I loved to write stories, so I decided to try my hand at screenwriting. The next step was the desire to visualise what I wrote. I began to think about clips as small films in which there must be a story and a dramatic structure. I shot a few short films and then wanted to tell the story in a musical format. I tried to avoid clips in the usual clichéd sense when an artist sings against a particular background - although this form is widespread and has the right to exist.
Until a few years ago, this approach for the music video was unpopular, except for pioneering experimenters such as Unkle, Radiohead, and Massive Attack, videos directed by Jonathan Glaser and others. This approach makes the clip similar to silent films: a visual sequence with a dramatic structure and musical accompaniment. So the clips became an exercise in developing the craft for me. Gradually, I came to writing larger forms, and the transition to the next level happened organically. By this time, I already had industrial experience in clips and advertising; I understood how the movie business and the structure of film production works. I knew the idea was surrounded by endless budget restrictions you had to spin. The approach to clips as a form of silent cinema inspired me, taught me a lot, and ultimately helped me get to my first feature film, The Execution.

What was the first when you sat down to begin working on Waltz? Is it the narrative, the character, or the setup?

I am an ethnic Georgian, so I have always wanted to collaborate with Georgian artists. Gigi Dedalamazishvili, Mbzavrebi's front man, sent me Waltz. The song is about his first feeling of losing a loved one. He tried to express the emotions he encountered at 16-17 when his grandmother died. After listening to the track, but not knowing the words of the song, I wrote a script, which, as it turned out, entirely coincides with the message of Waltz. Although the key in the music is the lullaby motif that Gigi's grandmother sang to him as a child. It seems to me that it works universally with any listener or native speaker of any language.
I spent my childhood in a Georgian village, influenced by particular contexts and traditions. I needed to journey into the past to understand my identity and have an internal talk with my departed loved ones. I wanted to imagine how and where relatives who are no longer around live, to see them and know they are good now. It is such a kaleidoscope of my mind, fragments of the warmest memories from childhood in Georgia: our hazel tree groves; a pond where we fished never seemed empty; an old aluminium wash basin in the yard, filled with ice water in the morning. From such precious fragments, inner warmth is formed, always by your side when you turn to these memories.

“I realised that this work has a critical mission – I could remind myself and those around me of the value and fragility of human life and spirit”

It has been one of the trending topics for discussion as to how directors move from shorts to feature films. And in one of the interviews, you said that you eventually make music videos and commercials to make movies. In 2021 you debuted with a psychological thriller movie – The Execution. At the beginning of 2023, you collaborated with Mgzavrebi on their music video – Waltz; are music videos a genre where you feel the most comfortable, or is the mix that enhances your creative portfolio?

One follows the other. Until age 5, I lived with my family in Georgia, speaking only Georgian. Due to the Georgian-Abkhazian war in the early 1990s, my family urgently had to move to Russia; over time, I lost my native language, having settled in the Russian-speaking environment. Now, I am developing an idea for a feature film in Georgian - I need to shoot such a work.
Waltz needed to turn out to be authentic, devoid of the tourist impression of Georgia. I followed the path that I had already tried: realising in the future that I wanted to make a film in Georgian, I first shot a short musical film, which also contained dialogue scenes. I attempt to understand the cultural context of my native country. In Georgia, unfortunately, I spent little time. I needed to immerse myself, realise, and feel the contexts. Waltz helped me take this step because the next step is a full-length Georgian movie.

They say when we feel down, stressed, and uncertain, we naturally gravitate toward positive memories of the past. Is it the case with Waltz, and how did you decide on the narrative with Mgzavrebi? What was the creative process behind it?

I always build trusting relationships with artists in which clear areas of responsibility are delineated. The song is a full-fledged, complete statement of the artist. The script and creative implementation of the video are my territories. Although I will not hide, before the presentation of the idea to the musicians, I was worried - I specially went to the studio on foot and walked seven kilometres to it. In work on Waltz, I had a complete carte blanche, and the group showed maximum confidence. Since the script was about rituals and traditions, the only wish of the group was not to get into the postcard-tourist perception of Georgia: “wine, khinkali, khachapuri, etc.” We needed to maintain a balance so that the archetypal national elements and colouring were readable and looked detailed and dignified but did not become caricatured.
We divided the production period into two parts - a documentary and an acting. I first needed chronicle footage to metaphorise the world where the departed live. We used a Bolex camera from the 60s, which resembles an archived newsreel, even all of the footage I filmed entirely during a week in September in the high-mountain villages in Racha and Bakhmaro. It's a miracle that we managed to capture this fragile timelessness. When we watched the rough cut, we saw the same world of the departed loved ones with our eyes. And then we started filming a coloured acting part in Tbilisi. We filmed it on Arriflex, which gives an entirely different plasticity to the footage - it is smoother and cleaner. It allows the entire unique Georgian texture to open up fully. 16mm film as a tool was a conscious decision. We had a specific task - to visually distinguish between the two worlds. Speaking of casting: our three main characters are professional actors, but all the rest are not. It was essential to fill our world with living, expressive people who would not act. There were also limitations by the work of the production designer when searching for locations and selecting props. It was essential to rely on the beauty and integrity of existing objects and things. I needed to find the line on which a documentary story organically coexists with minimal staging intervention so that I, as a director, would not be seen.

What was the most challenging shot accomplished for this video? How did you frame and realise the birth scene?

A year ago, on January 27, 2022, Gigi and I went location scouting for the first time in Bakhmaro. It is a mountainous village about 5 hours’ drive from Tbilisi. We began to climb the mountains when the snowfall started. Despite the difficulties, we reached the village. We managed to see houses covered with snow up to the roofs, but we realised we had found the place.
Meanwhile, a terrible snow storm began, and we were lucky not to stay in the mountains and return safe and sound. Precisely nine months later, on October 27, 2022, we wound up shooting Waltz by filming the birth of a child. So, while in January, Gigi and I picked mountain locations, the future protagonist of our story was conceived somewhere in Tbilisi.
There were three of us on the set in the labour ward: me, director of photography Andrey Krauzov, and a camera mechanic. The morning before, we joked about which would faint first. But when birth began, we were shocked by the emergence of a new human being. The first movements of a person, a first glance, a cry – such a fragile miracle of human life.

Waltz must have been an intimate work, considering your Georgian roots. The work appears as a personal diary filled with memories and nostalgia for past times. Yet, this cultural heritage and scenes speak to a niche, although the topic and narrative stand universal. While making the music video, what kind of audience did you imagine? And do you think there is a proper way of framing cultural heritage?

Cinema speaks a universal language. Yes, many genres allow the author to enter into a dialogue with the audience through several tools. It is clear that for me, this is a personal story connected with my ethnic roots, as well as a step towards a feature film.
During the production of Waltz, we have overcome many obstacles. When the war began, everything became indifferent, including the project. The first attempt to launch Waltz was interrupted by the beginning of the war - in one day, everything around lost its meaning, and life itself lost its sense. We were forced to freeze the project for an indefinite period. The war changed our lives, but day by day, I only felt more acutely how important it was for me to film Waltz. I realised that this work has a critical mission – I could remind myself and those around me of the value and fragility of human life and spirit.
I went on this journey in an attempt to once again fall in love with life itself and the people around me. And on this overcoming resistance, I went on this journey with a magnificent team, each of which also went through resistance because all of us at one moment was destroyed, and annihilated. And to start living again, not to give up, to continue living this life is worth the effort. The projectile has a kill zone, and the war emotionally impacted many people. It's like radiation. This destructive feeling has penetrated and dissolved metastases in each of us, destroying from within. In addition to the monstrous external destruction we see in Ukraine, many people receive severe emotional wounds, watching what is happening, feeling powerless against this situation, and unable to influence others. We've all experienced this. Work on Waltz has become a healing space for the whole team. As an essential part of the project space, each complex has its case, empathy, and emotions.
A year after the start of work on the film, while editing the material, I realised that I already wanted not to finish as long as possible, to extend these processes so that this beautiful time would not end. Because when I don’t spend time on Waltz, I seem to lose the meaning again. And you will need to look for a new one because the project, for a short time, formulated the sense of my existence. This work has become therapeutic, a resuscitation of love for the world around us, not only for me but for all the creators. And an endless declaration of love for our departed loved ones, who, for some time, allowed us to believe in the best side of humanity.
I have a rather gloomy, pessimistic view of the world. But this year, I denied myself that opportunity. It was essential for me to start with myself and change my view of the world, to find the light that we need today more than ever. When I watched Waltz as a spectator, I felt that an inexhaustible supply of light remained inside. I experienced a feeling of purification. I won't lie, I cried. And I appreciate the fact that there is a similar response from the audience. Many comments and posts sincerely share personal family stories, memories, and feelings. People assign Waltz personally like the story about their dear person. We dedicated our film to our loved ones; the audience dedicates it to theirs. It is precious to me.

“When I watched Waltz as a spectator, I felt that an inexhaustible supply of light remained inside”

What inspires your aesthetic? Any filmmakers or artists whose works you follow?

In addition to the desire to imagine where departed loved ones might be, Georgian cinema and its bright representatives: Georgy Daneliya, Tengiz Abuladze, and Sergey Parajanov were a great source of inspiration. These are great Georgian film directors who greatly influenced my perception of cinema. I would highly recommend you to watch such films as The Color of Pomegranate by Sergey Parajanov, Passport by Georgy Daneliya, and Repentance by Tengiz Abuladze - these are some of my favourite films. All these creators incredibly love their protagonists, empathise and sympathise with them – no matter how foolish, scoundrels, insignificant, or ridiculous they can sometimes be. These authors always found beauty in their characters and aestheticized them in some of their weaknesses or manifestations of stupidity. No matter what, as a viewer, you still empathise and forgive them -- because of the initial love of their creators. It is probably the main thing that these great Georgian filmmakers taught me.

Do you have any upcoming projects we can be on the lookout for?

I am currently working on two feature-length films. One is an international project in English, and the second in Georgian. If not now, I need to make a film in Georgian soon because Waltz is the first step towards meaning and the culture that touches and interests me. And I took this step meaningfully. Now I need to move further, to discover a more effective form for myself, to formulate for myself the space of a new film, to go into it and start to integrate, and delve into the local context even more profoundly to find the same nuances that reveal the peculiarities of Georgian culture to the maximum. I want the audience to see and love Georgia the way I love it and its people - I learn anew and fall in love every day.

Written and Directed by Lado Kvataniya
Cinematography | Andrey Krauzov, Lado Kvataniya
Produced by STEREOTACTIC, DADDY'S FILM
Production Georgia - Independent Film Project
Producers | Alexander Medvedko, Egor Solomatin, Margarita Sayapina, Lado Kvataniya
Executive Producer | Tatyana Patrenina

1st AD | Nick Mironov
Unit Production Manager | Daniil Grinshpun
Producer Assistants | Uliana Evdokimova, Nazar Kaseev
Production Service Tbilisi | Nodar Dzhincharadze, Dursun Ovezova, Irakliy Pochkhua
Production Designer | Alexey Yandovskiy
Props | Sofiko Berulava, Ekaterina Tolcheva
Stylist | Alisa Viduta
Casting | Milena Bessonova, Margarita Sayapina, Ekaterina Popkova, Uliana Evdokimova
Cast | Achi Makalatia, Veronika Kalandarishvili, Dato Dvalishvili
Mgzavrebi Band | Gigi Dedalamazishvili, Lasha Dokhnadze, Misho Megrelishvili, Bejo Amiranashvili, Guga Kublashvili, Davit Gogelia, Davit Ugrexelidze
Artist Manager | Otar Edisherashvili
Gaffer | Tsotne Marsagishvili
Cameraman | Oleg Kibisov
Best Boy | Mikhail Pestriaev

16mm /// KODAK
GEORGIA /// 2022-202

Recollecting memories of the loved ones in Lado Kvataniya's music video Waltz

Directed by Lado Kvataniya

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